"Yeah, I knew, the ghost isn't a ghost, his name is front and center on the covers, so it's obvious. So no worries, you didn't burst any bubbles or pull skeletons out of the closet. But yeah, I like Ludlum's old stuff best, written by Ludlum himself and not his ghostwriter. It's all about Soviet-era espionage, but when you're an old school dude like me, it's all good."
And I flushed then.
"No, I like it too," I said boldly. "Sure, it happened before I was born, but I read about the Berlin Wall coming down, I love crime fiction set during that era. It's got repercussions too, what with Putin and the West dueling over influence."
The big man looked at me curiously then.
"You follow the news?" he asked, eyebrow arched.
And I nodded, still standing over by the door.
"Who couldn't? What with Russia allegedly gaming the recent elections, truth is stranger than fiction, don't you think?" I asked with a wry smile. "I thought about majoring in computer science because it's such a hot topic, but computers aren't really my thing."
And the big man chuckled deep in his chest.
"Honey, I don't think that hackers necessarily go to college and get engineering degrees. I think those mofos started young, tinkering with toasters when they were five, and getting up to no good out of curiosity when they were kids. They've been honing their skills for the dark side for a long time, it's not something college is there to teach."
And I nodded, stepping closer.
"I totally agree," I said seriously. "I took a programming class and it was crazy. Even during the first week, it seemed like half the guys already knew the entire textbook backwards and forwards, and I was the only one trying to get through Chapter One. But I think," and here, I smiled ruefully, "that they were all there for easy A's. They knew the material already, and Intro to Programming was a dummy course for them."
Mr. Martin nodded, looking at me closely.
"What did you say you were studying?" he growled. "Come on, up here with me," he said, patting the space next to him.
And in a flash, I'd scrambled onto the big bed, but instead of sitting in the designated area, I got under the covers next to him, snuggling against that hard male form.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, gasping a bit. Because as predicted, he'd gone commando and when my leg touched his, burrowing between his knees, I felt the brush of his bare cock against my thigh, hard, stiff and aching.
The big man just growled.
"Honey, I've been hard the minute you stepped in," he drawled. "You didn't think I'd be any other way, did you?"
And I shook my head mutely.
"No, but … I guess I was still surprised," I whispered, looking deep into those blue eyes.
And Mr. Martin grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it higher around his waist while circling his arm around my back, hauling me close.
"Now baby, what was your major again?" he rumbled. And the vibrations felt good against my small form, emanating from his chest to permeate through my curvy form. I sighed, in heaven, burrowing against him, breasts pressed against the side of his torso, nestling my head on his shoulder.
"I'm majoring in Communications," I said shyly. "But don't you think this is weird? Me and you, um, together like this?"
He shot a look my way, craning his head to glance down me. God, he was so close, I could almost lick that square jaw, press my lips to that bronzed neck.
And Mr. Martin grinned, rumbling, "No, feels fine to me," he rumbled. "You?"
I thought for a moment, curves pressed against his big form. It was comfy this way, so warm and toasty, he seemed to radiate heat and I was drawn to him, loving the hardness, the sensuality. And I loved how I already had a leg crossed over his intimately, my girls pressed against him, not an inch separating us. But what man could handle a conversation when we were entwined like lovers?
"I'm just concerned," I said in a small voice. "I mean, I know you're hard and I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Do you want me to, um, do something about it?"
And the big man half-chuckled, half-choked in his chest.
"Naw honey, no need, no need to do anything just yet. I want to get to know you," he ground out. "I want to know everything that's going on in that pretty little head and how it's led to this," he said, nudging me with his toe.
And I blushed.
"You mean, my virginity," I whispered. "How I'm still a virgin even though I'm dating Jonah?"
He nodded.
"That would be a start," he said dryly. "And if you told me Jonah's gay, I wouldn't be surprised because what other possible answer could there be?"
I flushed because his son wasn't gay, that wasn't it. But I didn't feel right divulging Jonah's secrets either, so I just took a deep breath.
"I'm not sure where I am with your son," I admitted truthfully. "It seems like he wants to date me but at the same time doesn't."
Okay, that was a twisted answer if there was any. But the big man just nodded.
"Go on," he commanded, and I sighed again, squirming closer to him.
"I feel like Jonah wants me on his arm for some reason or other," I said slowly, "Not that I'm so beautiful or charming or anything, but like he wants to be seen with me, to show me off. But we've never done anything physical," I whispered shyly, unable to meet Mr. Martin's eyes for a moment. "I've asked him about it, and he always puts it off, saying that we should wait until next semester."
Mr. Martin let out a low growl then.
"He's got to be gay, what red-blooded man would turn down the opportunity to be physical with you? To touch those lush tits, taste the cream from your pussy? Fuck, my son has to be gay."
And I blushed as his dirty words, at what Mr. Martin was implying he wanted to do to me. But my head shook again because no, Jonah wasn't gay, he was just into a different type of life.
"I think," I said hesitantly. "Jonah's exploring a lot of things, finding himself, and isn't that what college is all about?" I said with a wry smile. "Finding yourself and discovering things about yourself that you didn't know, making the transition from childhood to adult life?"
The big man ran a warm hand down my back, his palm large, square and caressing.
"Honey, that's exactly what college is, finding yourself during those four years is more important than what major you are or even what grades you get," he ground out. "I just hope this process of "figuring it out" works for my son, that it's not going to be four years of waste."
And I shook my head.
"I'm sure it'll be fine," I replied firmly. "He'll find it. Not with me, but maybe with someone else. And not a man," I said hurriedly.
And Mr. Martin let out another low laugh.
"Don't worry baby," he chucked me under the chin. "I don't care if Jonah dates someone male, female, purple, green, with polka dots or stripes. I just want him to go through the process and not waste his time doing something that he doesn't care about, that's not going to make a difference in his life. But enough about him," he said, squeezing my hip. "What about you? What's in store for Alison West?"
And I blushed again.
"What do you mean, what's in store?"
He shrugged.
"What are you gonna do after school? Internships? Full-time job? Grad school?"
And I blushed then.
"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth, because I'm a freshman so nothing's set in stone," I confessed. "But I was thinking maybe communications so I could help grow a business's sales, work in PR or something like that."
And Rob shot me another wry look, eyebrows raised.
"Marketing or PR, huh?" he asked. "You know the most beautiful girls go into those areas so that when old dudes like me come calling, it's easier to make a sale."
And I blushed.
"No, no, that's not why I want to go into it. I'm not pretty," I said, blushing. "I just really think it's interesting to craft a corporation's image, to be a company's liaison to the outer world, to coordinate advertising, press releases, even social media these days. It's totally something I'd like to do."
And Mr. Martin looked down at me again.
"Seems like you've got a plan then," he said lightly. "There are lots of opportunities in NYC for a girl like you, one with ambition and talent. Do you have an internship lined up for this summer yet?"
And I bit my lip. Because I did, but my feelings were conflicted.
"I do," I admitted slowly. "It's with a big company out in Minneapolis, where I'm from, Tru-Value Appliances, but I don't really want to go," I said.
He glanced down at me.
"Why not?" blue eyes curious.
And I sighed.
"I should be grateful to have something lined up, especially for my freshman summer," I said ruefully. "But it's Minneapolis and while I adore my hometown, it's just not where I want to be," I said ruefully. "I love New York City, my parents scrimped and saved so I could come, and I'll miss it in summer," I continued. "I want to stay and see what there is, see what opportunities present themselves. But you know what?" I took a deep breath, getting a hold of myself. "I need to be more grateful because having something, anything, is already a huge plus."